


nothing but loose ends

by FireLorde



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, Depressed Tony Stark, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Fuck Off Howard, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, MIT Era, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Sad, Suicidal Ideation, Tony Stark Has Issues, rhodey's 18, tony is 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 12:12:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15949097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireLorde/pseuds/FireLorde
Summary: ‘He’s been hitting the bottle again,’ Pepper convinces herself, ‘and he gets nostalgic when he does that.’“Goodnight, Tony. Please try and get some sleep.”The three, monotonous notes that hum a dismal goodbye signal the end of their conversation, and Tony goes back to staring out his picture window.(title from frank ocean's "super rich kids")





	nothing but loose ends

**Author's Note:**

> who ordered sad rhodeytony? here it is anyways. sophomore! rhodey and senior! tony. woof. there's a bit of suicidal ideation here because tony's clinically depressed in this fic. if that isn't your cuppa tea, be warned!  
> just a disclaimer: this is not some whack fic where tony is way too young to even think about sex- he's in college, and the MA age of consent is 17.  
> unbetaed because my friends are coercing me into posting it. wild.

“Yeah, I loved him. A lot. Back in my college days. Still do.”

 

Tony’s voice crackles through the phone, and Pepper knows that’s her cue to say goodnight. ‘He’s been hitting the bottle again,’ she convinces herself, ‘and he gets nostalgic when he does that.’

 

“Goodnight, Tony. Please try and get some sleep.”

 

The three, monotonous notes that hum a dismal goodbye signal the end of their conversation, and Tony goes back to staring out his picture window.

 

There was a time where he would have been sitting on the deck, legs dangling off the railing, ankles bit by the wind. He’d imagine what it’d be like to fall down ten stories, into the courtyard, and take his whole legacy along for the ride. Howard wouldn’t care. He probably wouldn’t even plan a funeral for him.

 

“Hey,” he would have heard. He wouldn’t have turned around. He knew that voice, though. It was calming, soft, almost too wonderful to be real.

 

“Tony, you gotta come down from there.”

 

He would shake his head. No amount of persuasion could sway him.

 

“Cari from 13D’s having a party. She invited Ella, that blonde from your Stats class. She said you could come, if you wanna.”

 

He would continue to be silent. The canopy of flowering trees seemed a soft enough bed to land in. He could just tip himself forward, and he’d fall. Rhodes wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.  _ Close his eyes, feel the crash _ against the branches. It would be better than a lullaby to him.

 

“I don’t feel like going to a party.”

 

Rhodes took a few steps toward him, his hands drumming against the railing.

 

“That’s cool.”

 

“Don’t go,” Tony said, turning his head. His eyes, bright-red and puffy, glistened in the low light.

 

“Hey,” he could hear Rhodes’ voice soften, “why don’t you come back to my dorm and we’ll get you situated?”

 

“I’m good.”

 

“That wasn’t a question.”

 

Tony’s eyes widened. He sighed and slowly slunk off the railing, jumping a bit as soon as he felt Rhodes’ arm around his shoulder, supporting him. Supporting  _ him _ .

 

—————————

 

“Rule number one,” Rhodes had said, “you’re not allowed to sit on that railing like that anymore. You could’ve fallen.”

 

“That’s kinda the point.”

 

Rhodes said nothing at first.

 

“Okay, okay, let’s rephrase. If you’re ever feeling like sitting out there alone, come over to my dorm. It’s 5B, you know that. I’ll sit with you on my porch and we can talk, or not talk, but… I just don’t want you to fall off that railing.”

 

Tony doesn’t know why, but he feels like kissing Rhodes for that. He leaned closer to him, his hand reaching for Rhodes’ cheek.

 

“We should kiss,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

 

“If that’s what’ll make you feel better,” Rhodes said, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of Tony’s cracked lips on his.

 

“My man, you need to invest in some chapstick,” he’d said, which earned a half-smile from Tony. 

 

Why was Tony kissing James Rhodes? To forget about his thoughts? That didn’t work long, whether he was kissing Alyssa Green, Marlene Walker, or Olivia Dayton. Nothing physical lasted. It was impulse, then. Impulse alone had led him to sit, shirtless on Rhodes’ chest and grind against him.

 

Sex stopped being about the person he was with and more about the sensations of hurt washing away a long time ago.

 

Even as he watched Rhodes wrap his arms around his smaller body, felt his kisses on his neck, pressed his chin into his chest, he opted out of forgetting. Pain and pleasure mixed together in the most cliche way, and Tony could feel himself being stretched by a pair of fingers.

 

“Fuck me,” he whispered, “I want you to fuck me until I forget.”

 

See, that was the lie- there was no way he could forget. He was depressed. That’s what it was. Sex couldn’t even give him a release from  _ that _ vice grip.

 

Rhodes was stopping his movements now, his face a mixture of confusion and empathy.

 

“Hey,” he started, “you alright, Tony? We can stop if you want to.”

 

It wasn’t until then that Tony realized that a few tears were treading their way down his cheeks.

 

“I’m fine,” Tony fired back, quick as a whip.

 

“Keep going. I want this, Jimmy. I want you.”

 

Rhodes nodded, albeit halfheartedly, sneaking another kiss onto Tony’s neck and lining his fingers up, plunging them in, feeling Tony arch his back and look at the blinds covering the window.

 

After Tony had come, holding onto Rhodes’ back with all his might, he’d kissed him, over and over again, letting himself go in his post-orgasm stupor. He’d cried and cried and clung to his friend and told him how sorry he was, how sorry he was for being such a terrible friend and a terrible son and a terrible person in general.

 

And Rhodes, the  _ audacity _ of Rhodes. He’d stayed with Tony, arms around  _ his _ small body, whispering little affirmations of his worth into his ear.

 

“I’m going to be here for you, Tones. I care about you.”

 

Tony knew that was a lie, even though it really wasn’t.

 

And there he was, decades later, his head in his hands. It wasn’t as bad as it was when he was seventeen. As long as he remembered to take the Wellbutrin, it would be manageable. As long as he called Pepper regularly at the odd hours of the night and treated her like a queen in bed, it would be manageable. As long as Rhodes still took impromptu weekend trips to Thailand with him, it would be manageable. As long as he kept away to his lab when everyone he cared about was sleeping, gone, or unavailable to give him a quick talk-therapy session, it would be manageable.

  
Tony didn’t know how he could cope if everything wasn’t at least  _ manageable _ .

**Author's Note:**

> whew that was a trip. comments and kudos inspire me to keep writing! and as always, find me at liferuiner63 on tumblr.


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